


Let The Wild Rumpus Start

by love_stella



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Mythology - Freeform, Team Canada, animal-related shenanigans, kind of, outtakes from bolts camp, that's not french, the Dub is weird TM, the Q is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_stella/pseuds/love_stella
Summary: Me3101 bring food if you canTonywtf i don’t have lamb food dumbassMeno the food’s for me I haven’t eaten since this morning :DMitchwait i’ll be there in like 15. I want to see the floofTonyomw chubby we’ll wait for you in ingy’s roomMejust. hurry i think he’s going to start trying to eat the curtains





	Let The Wild Rumpus Start

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW IS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY, CLOSE THIS PAGE AND SAVE US ALL SO MUCH EMBARRASSMENT.
> 
> Massive thanks to Aimee for coming up with this verse with me and fixing all the magic-issues, Lotts for the hand-holding and fixing my grammar fuck ups, and Ali for looking over the ending for me while I freaked out about it. <3 ILY all.   
> also shoutout to steph for calling barz a siren ily
> 
> title taken from "where the wild things are" because the dub is a wild place.

The Dub is fucking weird. Connor’s not just saying that because his league doesn’t have the same stellar reputation as the O, or the mystery of the Q (it’s only mysterious because, really, who wants to learn French just to understand them, and hell, Connor’s not even sure it’s _really_ French some of the boys speak). No, as soon as you’re drafted into the Western Hockey League, you change. Everyone says being drafted is a big fucking deal, that you’ll remember it for the rest of your life, and they’re not wrong. Why? Because once you’re drafted, you turn into a fucking animal. A literal, four-legged, covered in fur, sniffing people’s asses, animal. (You could have feathers or scales, but whatever. Connor’s trying to make a point here.)

There’s a rumor going around the league that Jamie Benn turns into a baby cow; no one outside of Kelowna has seen it (Connor’s assuming Tyler Seguin has seen it more than anyone, but that’s a whole ‘nother rumor that he’s not going to touch), but it would explain the Sad Cow Eyes he sports whenever he’s talking to the media.

Then there’s Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, the only guy that actually turns into his team’s animal: he’s a _Cervus pelaphusi._ That’s right, the guy that played for the Red Deer Rebels turns into a fucking red deer. What the fuck?

The point is, there’s no real way to predict what kind of animal you’ll turn into the night of your draft. Connor’s pulling for something cool, like a tiger or wolf, but as he’s getting ready for bed, all of a sudden he finds himself on all four legs and very high off the ground. No, he’s not far off the ground, his legs are just longer than he’s used to. It takes him a minute to figure out how to move all his limbs in a pattern that somewhat resembles walking (he’s moving at least. It’s a little clunkier than he’s used to, but no one’s watching, so whatever), but he manages to clomp his way to the mirror on the closet door.

Well, the mirror that’s now in pieces on the floor, since he has fucking antlers and apparently they’re Very Sharp (or he’s just not used to having something pointy on the top of his head, so his distance judgement is a little off right now. Antlers, man, what the fuck.)

Connor Ingram, instead of something badass like a lion or tiger, is a fucking moose. And right now, he really wants to eat the towels lying on the floor. Shit, he really needs to get used to these antlers, or at least not bang them on the toilet seat when all he wants is to pick up a towel. And eat it. What the fucking hell. Maybe he should sleep in here, since he really doesn’t need to add bedsheets to his nutrition plan. His fur is a nice buffer so he’s technically not lying on the bathroom floor, and he’s actually warm enough that he won’t need a blanket. Hopefully when he wakes up he’ll be back on two legs again. He does _not_ need to explain to his parents why he’s trying to chew on their hair; they’re probably still excited about him being drafted to the Blazers, and that’s all the excitement he wants to share.

 

People are trying to figure out what actually triggers the change. The initial thought is that stress or extreme emotion triggers it, but plenty of guys change in the middle of the night, and there was that one time Patrick Marleau turned into a panther in the middle of a team dinner (man, why wasn’t Instagram a thing back then?) The Dub has been paying scientists to study it, but they’ve pretty much given up on trying to predict it, and the few who are still collecting data are considered old-fashioned. It’s a thing that happens, and everyone is dealing with it. Yes, even Connor, thanks.

Some people only turn into animals once, on the night they’re drafted, and Connor doesn’t know if they’re the lucky ones or not. Unfortunately, a lot of those guys got drafted to Kamloops, which means Connor’s one of the only guys who changes. Moose are herd animals, and of fucking course, Connor’s left without a herd.

It’s not usually so bad, especially since his roommate, (and the guy that’s going to take his job if he fucks up) Fergie, is chill about the moose thing. Like, he doesn’t freak out whenever he runs into a very confused, very wet, moose in their shower, or when his favorite toque goes missing and magically reappears in the toilet. Turns out human stomachs can’t digest that much fiber, but Moose-Connor didn’t count on turning back into Human-Connor right after he finished eating it. The more you know, right?

No, it’s usually when the Blazers are getting ready to face teams that have multiple shifters that things really go to shit for Connor. Shifters tend to gravitate towards each other naturally (because of the whole “we turn into animals but the rest of the team doesn’t” thing) but combined with the team dynamic, it’s like they’re in an inseparable best friend zone. Connor can only watch so much cuddling and Silent Eye Contact conversations when Everett or Brandon come to town, before his heart starts to _ache_.

The ‘Tips have Carter Hart, who turns into an arctic fox, and Noah Juulsen, who turns into a fucking _polar bear._ No one’s brave enough to tell Juuls he turns into the wrong kind of bear, but seriously? You play on the Silvertips and you turn into a _polar bear_? Connor’s never seen it for himself, but there’s a video of Juuls in his rookie year, trying to scratch a hole into the ice after some asshole drew a bunch of fish on the ice to fuck with him.

Hartsy is the least chill fox Connor’s ever met, which is like, the opposite of Human-Carter. If Connor hadn’t found the fox curled up in Hartsy’s glove wearing a fox-sized ‘Tips jersey, he wouldn’t even have believed it was Hartsy. Well, it _was_ curled up in the glove; Connor will swear on his life he didn’t squeal when he saw the fluffy snow-white baby fox, but _something_ woke it up. And boy did it wake the fuck up. The fox blinks its eyes and quickly glances around the room, then starts fucking screaming and darting around the room – jumping into boxes, ducking behind whatever it can use as a hiding spot for three seconds, threading through Connor’s legs, just, it goes fucking _everywhere_. Needless to say, Xfinity Arena doesn’t have a rat problem. Connor’s sure Hartsy would find those fuckers and tear them to shreds. Blood and white fur do not go together, like, at all, and it’d probably look bad if word got out that the Dub’s favorite goalie was a bloodthirsty maniac.

The only thing that calms the fox down is Juuls, and he doesn’t really even have to _do_ anything. Juuls just sits down on the floor, and *boom* the fox is in his lap, either curled up with its nose buried in its tail or sprawled on its back waiting for belly rubs. When one of them shifts, nothing else matters. Fire alarms, rookies running around the room naked (Connor hadn’t asked for details and he doesn’t want to know), pretty girls asking for autographs, pizzas being delivered – Hartsy and Juuls couldn’t care less. It’s really fucking sweet, and if Connor tries to cover up his jealousy with chirps, the boys don’t call him out on it.

 

Connor would never wish for a trade to a team like Everett; he loves his boys and knows how much they love him, but every now and then, he gives in and just _prays_ for something like JuulsandHartsy. In his dreams, his Moose has someone who knows what it’s going through, someone who knows that all he wants is to be snuggled, or to just _be_ with him. It’s a dream, people are allowed to have them, right?

 

_(Hockey Canada Foundation Gala)_

  
Hockey Canada is having a big party. Well, officially, it’s a benefit, but come on, it’s a fucking excuse for everyone to get drunk with boys they usually hate, and all the Dub boys have taken over a floor in the hotel.

Connor’s rooming with Dante Fabbro, which is cool. Fabbs is chill and lets him have the bed by the window, and he brought beer. They have to wrestle for control of the remote, but once Fabbs picks the channel (he fights dirty, Connor will swear on it if anyone asks), they settle in for the night like Good Canadian Boys.

The NCAA boys shouldn’t turn into anything, since they aren’t part of whatever the fuck goes on in the Dub, but when Connor wakes up to find what he later learns is a white tailed kite trying to nest in the bedsheets, he has a very brief crisis about everything he’s ever known being a lie. Sure, Fabbs was drafted by the Thunderbirds, but he never intended to sign with them, so he’s not really part of the Dub’s Thing. The bird, now trapped in the sheets and making a noise Connor doesn’t even know how to describe–some sort of squawk-shriek-cry, whatever, it’s annoying–is proof enough that Connor’s wrong about NCAA boys being normal.  

The flying thing seems to work for Josty, too. Someone’s knocking on doors complaining about a rapid fluttering sound–it’s too fucking early for this, come on–and when Connor goes to investigate, he finds the Dub boys gathered around a Gatorade bottle. Connor is so not awake enough to be mesmerized by a fucking bottle of sugar-liquid, but he thinks Carter Hart is smarter than that.

The boys aren’t interested in the Gatorade bottle, but a fucking hummingbird is taking full advantage of the fact that the bottle’s leaking all over the floor.

“Look at its feathers. Why’s there a tuft of green feathers on the top of its head? Looks like Josty,” Claguer laughs.

“Shit, why does Josty always have to be fast? Couldn’t he be a fucking snail or something?” Beaner asks, which, what the fuck, Beaner, that doesn’t even make sense. Even if Josty was a snail, he’d be the fastest fucking snail, and like, win snail races. That’s a thing, right?

“Don’t let Ingy near it, with his luck he’ll step on Josty, or impale him on one of his antlers,” someone–Connor thinks Barz?–says, but he’s already backing out of the room. Whoops, looks like they didn’t realize he’d just made it through the door.

Listen, Connor knows that, as a person, he’s kind of clumsy–all long legs and gangly arms that don’t always communicate with each other. Sometimes he tries to skate away from his crease and he trips. Sometimes he’s trying to get something off the top shelf of a bookshelf and knocks the entire bookshelf over, but that was one time, okay, and he’d rather not talk about it. To make himself feel better, he remembers Steve Dangle saying that goalies are shaped weird. It’s not his fault he’s awkward; it’s just a goalie thing.

Anyway, the point is, when he’s a moose, his head’s a little fuzzy and his perception of everything is slowed down.  He tries really fucking hard to pay attention to where his antlers are, but then he needs to remember that he has four hooves that don’t always move the way he wants them to move. If he had his normal brain power, that wouldn’t be a problem, but he’s got a moose brain. It’s bad enough on its own, because moose are herd animals, so he’s supposed to have other moose friends in his head. It’s really fucking lonely to have holes where other people are supposed to fit, but Connor tries not to think about that.

The boys don’t know about The Post-Draft Mirror Incident; no one does, but Claguer and the Wheat Kings were in town for the Goalnet Eating Incident, when Connor wasn’t expecting to go moose during warm ups, and panicked when he got caught in the net. He swears that’s what happened, even if it looked like he decided to take a pre-game snack and up his fiber intake,  but this means most of the Dub boys know about it.

Thanks to things like that, everyone likes to make fun of Connor and how clumsy he is. It doesn’t bother the moose, but it sure bothers Connor, even if he always pretends to laugh it off with the boys.

“Hey, wait up, Ingy,” he hears, and oh, shit, did Hartsy see him? Connor was totally down to just pretend he slept through the Josty shit, but–yep, Hartsy isn’t going to let that happen.

“Oh, uh, what’s up, Hartsy?” Connor says, thinking that maybe he can play it off, but before he finishes his sentence, the other goalie is cutting him off.

“Don’t listen to Barz, yeah? He’s a shithead, you know that. He doesn’t actually mean half the stupid shit he says,” Hartsy says, looking at Connor like he desperately wants to believe what he’s saying, but somehow can’t manage to.

Of course it was Barz. Connor absolutely _hates_ Mathew Barzal. He’ll tell anyone who asks why Barz is the only player he’s ever thrown his blocker at. Not only does Barz look like he just woke up from a nap behind a dumpster in a Denny’s parking lot–seriously dude, brush your fucking rat’s nest once in awhile–but he’s got the cocky, weaselly personality to match. Connor’s half convinced Barz sold his soul for his hockey skills, since he’s got wicked hands and an even more wicked smirk.

It doesn’t help that Barz is “different” than the rest of the boys in the Dub. He doesn’t turn into an animal, but he’s definitely not human. No one really knows exactly what he is; they just know he makes a lot of jokes about cannibalism that don’t really sound like jokes and his roomie complains about him leaving bloodstained clothing on the bathroom floor on road trips. Connor thinks it might have something to do with the fact that he’s close with some of the Q boys, always speaking French to make himself look cooler, but he can’t put his finger on it. And it’s not like it even matters, how often do the Dub boys hang out with boys who play in fucking Quebec? Barz is an asshole, that's really all that matters.

 

It's not like Connor’s the only guy who turns into a big animal. Fuck, he's not even the only one with antlers. Claguer turns into a fucking deer, but aside from a few jokes like “Kale, be a deer and grab me a beer,” or “Oh deer, Claguer, what was that shot?” the boys pretty much leave him alone. They don’t even try to hang anything on his antlers, unlike the time Duber thought it would be funny to use Connor as a fucking coat rack. Not that they’ve tried it again, since the jacket might have “accidentally” gotten torn to pieces, and the pieces might have clogged the bathtub in Duber’s room.

That might not bother the other boys, but Duber just really enjoys soaking in the tub. Or, the otter version of him does. Someone (probably Barz again, but Connor’s trying to let it go and be the bigger person) said that Otter-Dillon looked like he got into a fight with Duber’s eyebrows and lost, and honestly, he’s not wrong: the otter is covered in thick dark fur everywhere except, ironically, where his eyebrows should be. Connor’s not sure if otters even have eyebrows, but the otter has little bald spots above its eyes, so it always looks Very Concerned about its surroundings.

Duber’s otter couldn’t give less of a shit about anything; it does what it wants, when it wants. If it wants to screech at a fly buzzing around the room, it’s going to screech at the fly. If it wants to break into the suitcase that has the treats in it, it’s going to break into the suitcase. Connor wishes Duber would bite Barz more often, but for some reason Duber seems fascinated by Barz’s hair and has learned that biting him means no hair-touching.

The only thing that makes Duber chill is filling the tub with water and letting it swim. They’re trying to teach it to fetch ping-pong balls and do tricks, but Duber is more interested in floating on its back holding the ball they just threw. Bummer. Juuls always makes them take Duber out of the tub after a couple hours in case the otter shifts back, even if they all agree that it would be hilarious if Duber shifted back mid-swim and got drenched. Connor’s sure this is why they can’t have nice things, thanks Juuls.

 

The highlight of the weekend–besides hockey and booze, of course–is watching Beaner’s husky try to get everyone to play with it. Everyone in the Dub said that Beaner was too small to be drafted, and for some reason his husky is just as small. Seriously, they caught Hartsy’s fox and compared the two of them (not the smartest idea, Connor didn’t even think of the fact that they could’ve gotten into a fight and killed each other), and the husky is _barely_ taller than the fox.

Claguer thinks it would be fun to take Beaner on a walk around the neighborhood, so they ask one of the Hockey Canada guys if they can buy a collar and leash (which, don’t look at us like that. Barz might be into that, no one else is) and if it’s cool if they can have some unchaperoned time outside. They ask for two hours but accept the counteroffer of 45 minutes, which Connor thinks is lame, it’s not like they have anything else they have to do until dinner. Beaner’s fucking stoked to go outside; it rolls over as soon as the leash comes out and shit dude, don’t break your fucking tail wagging it that fast.

No one seems too surprised to see eight hockey players walking a dog, which Connor really doesn’t understand; they keep stopping every block to hand the leash over to someone else. It would be annoying, but hey, it’s Connor’s turn to walk Beaner so he can’t complain. By the time they get to the park it’s time to head back to the hotel, not that Beaner actually cares. Seriously, Connor wishes he had this much fun as a moose, that would be the fucking best.

Everyone agrees that taking over one of the conference rooms and chilling with Beaner’s husky is the best way to rebel against the Hockey Canada Man™ and it would have been fine if they anticipated Hartsy and Fabbs shifting in the middle of puppy-time. They didn’t, and now Hartsy and Beaner are play-fighting (are teeth supposed to come out that much if it’s play? Connor hopes so) and chasing each other across the room while Fabbs is perched on top of the tv looking like he might try to catch Hartsy.

“Ok so who’s going to catch Hartsy, because I am sure as shit not doing it,” Josty asks.

“I think the real priority should be distracting Fabbs,” Claguer says. “I don’t know anything about kites, but I think Beaner’s too big for it to eat. Hartsy’s kind of small though. Shit Fabbs, please don’t eat your friends.”

“Well I have Beaner under control,” Duber says, his voice raising at the end to get Beaner’s attention. On cue, it runs over and – shitshitshit Fabs is taking advantage of the distraction and flying right towards Hartsy.

Connor doesn’t realize he’s going Moose until his hooves are on the carpet. He tries to say that he’s going to step in front of Hartsy, his legs are big enough to form some sort of wall to keep Fabbs away from it, but all that comes out is a confused bellow.

“Shit, that’s a great idea, Ingy,” Barz shouts. Wait, why is Barz congratulating him? Connor’s moose brain isn’t normally this confused, but it looks like Barz wants to hug him. Maybe Connor can scare him away if he bellows again. Hold on, there’s a reason he went Moose. Where’s Fabbs? Why did he just get smacked in the face with a wing? Oh look, Fabbs is perched on an antler.

“Don’t shit on me, dude,” Connor tries to say, but once again, it’s a bellow. Whatever, he’s pretty sure Fabbs gets the idea. Shitting on a teammate is _not_ _bros_ , it’s like, the opposite of bros.

“Oh shit, someone grab Hartsy,” Josty yells, which, dude, maybe try grabbing him yourself, instead of just standing there like an idiot. “You little shit, he’s trying to eat you.”

Connor’s moose brain is a little slow on the uptake, but oh look, Hartsy’s trying to climb Connor’s leg to get to the pretty squawking thing on his antlers. Someone needs to trim his claws, holy shit he’s not even digging them in, and _holy shit_ every time Hartsy’s nails touch Connor’s leg it feels like he’s digging straight into his bones. Okay, shaking his leg was a Bad Idea because _now_ Hartsy’s digging his claws into his leg to hold on. Foxes can jump, right? Honestly, Connor’s about 10 seconds away from trying to find out if they can fly; he’s debating the merits of flinging Hartsy off his leg when Barz saunters up and pulls Hartsy off his leg. What the fuck Mat? You couldn’t have grabbed Hartsy _before_ he started using Connor’s leg as a scratching post? Dick.

“Ok I think someone needs a nap,” Barz coos – what the fuck? Barz doesn’t coo- at Hartsy. “Claguer, grab Fabbs’ jacket and cover him so we can get out of here. Ingy, just, fuck I don’t know. Don’t be a moose?”

If Connor had fingers he’d flip Barz off, but he has something better: antlers. How much trouble would he get if he stabbed a teammate? Connor thinks everyone’s wanted to maim Barz some point, he’d probably get a muffin basket or something for his services if he shanked him. Dammit Connor hates his moose brain, because two things just walked out the door: Barz, and Connor’s chance to shank him. Oh well, there’s always next time??

It's not until Connor starts brushing his teeth that he realizes that Fabbs was just fucking around with everyone: he remembers researching this after finding out about Fabbs. White tailed kites stick to smaller prey like voles or rats; they wouldn't actually be able eat something as big as Hartsy. What an asshole.

 

The boys don’t get much of a chance to hang out the last day of the benefit. There’s a lot of schmoozing with wealthy people that want to meet “the future of Canadian hockey” but Connor thinks the food they get to eat during said schmoozing is worth putting on a suit and pretending to care about whatever it is they’re talking about. Weather? The benefits of a gluten free diet? Connor’s paying attention, promise. Connor also might be a little drunk -the Hockey Canada Man™ banned them from the open bar but consider the fact that Juuls snuck in a flask- but honestly, that just makes him more charming.

 

_(Selection camp)_

 

The season passes by like a whirlwind, before Connor knows it he’s on a plane heading to Mont Tremblant for World Juniors selection camp. Which, holy shit, Connor’s going to be competing for a spot on Team fucking Canada. Actually, he’s competing with Michael McNiven for the other goaltender spot, since Hartsy’s already a lock.

Everyone’s bummed that Nolan Patrick didn’t get cleared for camp -how is he _still_ hurt- but Claguer plays with him in Brandon and shows the guys something that’s almost as good as Patty being here himself: a fennec fox in a red and white (way to support Canada dork) jumper, his big ears blushing exactly the same way Patty does when he’s human.

“He’s got a softer underbelly as a fox, so we made him the jumper to keep it protected. The idiot was chasing a spider across the floor and must have pulled something, he came back from the doc the next day with a no-contact jersey. Have you heard a fennec fox cry? It’s so fucking sad man, like, Tanner almost started crying.”

 

Boys from the other leagues are here too, but why bother getting to know more boys who are just going to get cut by the end of camp? It's bad enough knowing that some of his friends (sorry Merks) aren't going to stick around, why add to that?

Or at least, that's what Connor will tell anyone who asks why the Dub boys are curled up on the couch together instead of trying to learn more about their Q and O “friends.” It sounds a lot better than “we can't really stand the decaying stench coming off Stromer” which, seriously, holy shit man do you never bathe? Connor’s not trying to be rude or anything, but wow that's something all the deodorant and air freshener in the world will be able to cover that up.

Connor doesn't know how the other O boys can stand it, like, right now, Raddysh and Stephens are curled up next to Strome on the couch with Cirelli and Speers at their feet, and none of them look like they’re getting ready to puke or suffocate. Is it just something you get used to after enough exposure? The boys know that Strome’s getting the C, and Connor _really_ doesn’t think any of his boys will ever get used to the stench.

It's not quite so bad when McLeod around, Connor’s heard rumors about how Mikey has some sort of magically buffering shit that neutralizes whatever weird shit the boys in Ontario have, so Strome smells a little less dead. (He also acts a little less dead, but Connor definitely didn’t think that.) Problem is, McLeod hasn’t been around that much, he’s always talking on the phone in his room to Bastian, who he swears is “just a friend bro, we talk all the time about bro stuff.” None of the O boys are calling him on it, so Connor figures he should just leave it alone.

The Q boys might not stink, but the Dub boys have agreed that they don't really trust the way Q boys look at them when they think no one's looking. Lauzon looks like he's planning something: always smirking and sneaking off with Myers to do god knows what. Connors’s seen that look before and it almost always ends in him going Moose and getting tangled up in Christmas lights. (Don’t ask.)

When they aren’t watching the Dub boys out of the corners of their eyes, the Q boys are speaking something they claim is French, but Connor’s not fucking stupid ok? He’s seen _Les Miserables_ -his mom wanted to watch it and, well, he didn’t want to make her go alone – so he knows what French sounds like. Quebecois is different, sure, but it can’t be _that_ fucking different.

Connor’s self conscious enough without having to deal with the Q boys switching to “French” whenever he and his boys come into the room, and it would just be nice if they’d be less obvious about it. Seriously Chabot, you're like, the opposite of subtle.

It doesn’t help that selection camp is in Quebec, where the Q boys are fully in their element. Connor swears he’s seen Myers’ face change when they were going over game tape and he got mad at a sloppy play in their own end. He can’t prove it, but just for a second, Myers’ cheekbones got sharper and his eyes started glowing until Lauzon caught him staring and whispered something to Myers. In the blink of an eye, Myers was back to normal and Lauzon looked like he wanted to kill Connor – hold the fuck on, since when is looking at someone a crime? – but neither of them said anything about it, so Connor figures he should just try to forget about it.

There’s a problem with trying to forget it: weird shit like that keeps happening, just to the Q boys and only when Connor looks at them from the corner of his eye. He swears that sometimes, when Lauzon and Myers are on the ice together during practice, it almost looks like they’re wearing armor instead of padding, but as soon as he sees it it’s gone. Dubois must be starting a fucking greenhouse in his room with all the plants he’s brought into the house. It’s getting annoying to keep pulling leaves out of the couch, but once again, that only happens when Dubois has been sitting there during tape review sessions. Connor hasn’t seen him carrying any of his plants around, but _man_ there are leaves all over the place. If he let himself think it, Connor swears he’s seen leaves under the sleeve of Dubois’ shirt, but he’s not going to let himself go there.

When he needs something to distract him from the weird Q shit he shouldn’t be thinking about, Connor just looks for Barz. Sure, Barz is probably more drama than he needs in his life, but he’s not really worried about Barz killing him in his sleep just because he _looked_ at him.  

Speak of the devil, Barz is definitely getting an A this year if Hockey Canada doesn’t just give everything to the O boys. He’s is the only one who isn’t afraid to go into enemy territory, and he’s not even annoying about it. Connor’s expecting it to be more of a thing, with Barz laughing obnoxiously about some “French” thing Gauthier says, or Barz making a show of being chill with McLeod, but none of that’s happening. Barz is just actually hanging out with everyone and Connor swears it’s almost like he doesn’t care about which league anyone’s in. If he didn’t know how big of a dick Barz could be, Connor would actually think he just wants to be friends with everyone.

Everything’s going great at camp until Merks starts asking where Steelsy is. Actually, where does Steelsy keep disappearing to? One minute he’s on the couch chilling with Connor and the boys, and the next he’s coming up with an excuse to leave the room. How often do you need to piss dude? Seriously, get it together.

Connor knows Steelsy shifts into a rhino – dammit another giant animal no one makes fun of, whatever, Connor’s not jealous – but he’s only seen it in person a few times. Well, he’s seen it a few times during camp, which probably isn’t that great when you’re trying to show Hockey Canada that you’re the right choice to represent the country. Connor might not be able to completely control when he goes Moose, but he _can_ get into a calmer mindset so he doesn’t _have_ to change.

Connor’s convinced that it’s not a coincidence that McLeod tends to disappear whenever Steelsy goes missing, but it’s not really his business, is it? All he knows is that McLeod’s buffer thing helps calm their animals, Connor’s not sure how to explain it since it’s never happened to him, but he’s overheard McLeod explaining it to Bastian on the phone. At least, he _hopes_ McLeod was talking on the phone because he was alone in his room and talking to _someone_.

“I dunno, man. I can just, I dunno, _feel_ them better when they’re animals?” McLeod had said. “Like, sometimes they’re scared, or stressed, or really sad, and I just. Talk to them? And I dunno, they just seem to calm down a little? Sometimes it makes them feel more human, so they just...turn human. Clearly, I have no idea what’s going on.”

The problem is, McLeod’s buffering thing helped Steelsy shift back the first time; Connor saw McLeod go outside after Steelsy had literally _stampeded_ out of the house, and five minutes later Steelsy walked back in, laughing at whatever McLeod was saying. It just doesn’t really do anything to prevent the shift, and that’s the problem. If Hockey Canada thinks Steelsy’s a liability and can’t control his shifting, they’re going to fucking cut him. Tearing up the league doesn’t matter if they think you’re going to literally tear up equipment or get caught out on the ice as a rhino in front of thousands of people.

The Dub boys have tried everything to help Steelsy stay human: they’ve had animals-only cuddle sessions – yes, polar bears and moose can cuddle with hummingbirds and huskies, thanks – before practices with the hope that Steelsy’s rhino will be cuddled-out and happy; they’ve cuddled as humans and watched movies together, thinking that Steelsy would be calmer and his rhino wouldn’t need to come out); they’ve tried getting Mikey – wait, when did Connor decide to start calling him Mikey, this is not part of the “don’t get attached” plan –  to give the rhino a pep-talk, which ended up turning Steelsy back before the pep-talk was over; Connor doesn’t know what else they can try, because sure enough, Steelsy goes rhino at least four times a day.

They knew it was coming, but when Hockey Canada announces that Steelsy’s been cut from the roster, it still stings all of the Dub boys. It’s another reminder that they’ll never be as important or special to the CHL because of something they can’t change. Sure, Merks, Howdy, and Wags got cut too, and Hockey Canada will never admit it, but Steelsy got cut because he couldn’t stop shifting.

As soon as they announce the cuts, Beaner and Hartsy shift in an attempt to raise their boys’ spirits – what’s better than a puppy and fox playing tug-of-war with a sock – but all it does is make Connor sad. Mikey’s the only non-Dub boy in the room – they’ve kind of adopted him into their pack – but as soon as he sees Beaner and Hartsy he stumbles out of the room. Shit, Mikey probably blames himself for not being able to help; Connor should probably go talk to him, but Barz is on his feet before he finishes the thought. He could follow, but what would Connor say that Barz isn’t going to? The more time Connor spends with him, the more he realizes that maybe Barz isn’t as bad as he thought. Shit, Barz is definitely going to get the A.

 

_(World Juniors)_

 

Connor’s never been away from home on Christmas – obviously, he’s fucking stoked to be in Toronto representing his country, he wouldn’t change it for the world –  and he can’t help but think about how his brothers are probably wrestling over who got to open the first present right now while their parents attempt to film it on Mom’s new phone.

Hockey Canada set up the hotel rooms so that everyone’s paired up: Connor’s with Hartsy, defensemen are with their d-partner, and he’s sure the forwards are paired up according to a very well thought-out plan, but it just seems kind of random. Whoever decided that Mikey needs to room with Raddysh instead of Strome is an idiot, don’t they know that Strome’s just going to stink up the room? How many hotel guests need to complain about the body that’s decomposing in Room 119 before Hockey Canada realizes they need to move Mikey into the room so he does his thing and neutralizes the stench?

Whatever. The point is that when Hartsy asks if Connor wants to go hang out with the boys, Connor quickly decides that hanging out with friends (even if a lot of them aren’t actually his _friends_ yet) is better than wallowing in homesickness. Connor’s not really sure what to expect when Hartsy leads him to one of the conference rooms the team’s taken over, but it’s definitely not this: there are three huskies wrestling in the middle of the room. No, Connor’s not seeing things, there are _three_ huskies. What the fuck? Beaner’s the only husky shifter, the O boys can’t shift (Connor’s pretty sure they would have said something because cuddling is the fucking best) and the Q boys all have _something_ weird but again, he’s never heard anything.

“Dude are you just going to stand there gawking or are you going to get in on this puppy party?” Jozy asks. Did he just say the words “puppy party?” What is he, like 12?

Connor’s not sure why he’s questioning it when _hell yes_ he is going to get in on the puppy party. Hartsy’s already rolling around on the floor with Beaner while Stephens is trying to pull the red and white husky off Gauthier. The grey and white husky is trying to bite Barz’s hair, but no one really seems to care enough to stop it. As soon as Connor sits down the two unidentified huskies prance over to him and start sniffing every part of him they can reach – Connor means _everywhere_ , shit, buy a guy dinner first – but they’re letting him pet them so Connor’s not going to complain.

The other huskies manage to run off while the boys are trying to get Beaner to give Raddysh his shoe back, but hey, Myers and Lauzon just walked in wearing collars – wait why are they wearing collars that look suspiciously like the ones those huskies were wearing? They play for the Rouyn-Noranda _Huskies_ but that doesn’t mean they turn into actual huskies, the Q doesn’t work like that. Gauthier and Dubois look like they want to say something about the collars, which Connor thinks would be a good thing if they weren’t holding back giggles and shoving at each other like it’s hilarious, but the important thing here is that Myers and Lauzon _happened_ _to_ walk in after the huskies left wearing the same fucking collars.

“Wow guys keep it in the bedroom,” Barz hollers. “We really don’t need to know the kinky shit you’re into.”

Myers and Lauzon don’t say anything but _shit_ Connor doesn’t like the way they’re smirking at each other before Barz’s hair catches on fire. Wait. Shit. Barz’s hair is on fucking fire. Someone grabs the bowl of water Beaner was just drinking out of and flings it over Barz’s head, but the flames wait a few seconds before dying out. Connor really doesn’t want to think about Myers and Lauzon being the only ones not freaking out, because he’s already kind of afraid of them – he can’t decide if it’s the smirks or the “French” – so he _does not_ need to think they can summon flames like that.

Myers follows Barz out of the room, except it’s more like Barz races out of the room frantically patting at what used to be his hair and Myers slowly follows him. The other Q boys start speaking in rapid-fire “French” and frantically pointing at the door while Lauzon just sits down and takes off the collar, like, dude how are you so calm? Connor knows he saw their teammate’s hair catch fire, but Lauzon is acting like nothing happened. Dammit can he just stop with that stupid smirk? If Connor was more violent the voice in his head would be threatening to cut the smirk off his stupid face, but he’s not so he won’t.

Connor _definitely_ doesn’t want to think about the fact that when Barz and Myers come back into the room, Barz’s hair is back but there’s a distinct bald spot in the shape of a maple leaf on the back of his head. When Myers sits in Lauzon’s lap – Connor’s not going to question that – he sees Lauzon squeeze Myers’ hip, which Myers shrugs off like he doesn’t want to deal with whatever Lauzon’s asking him. Connor doesn’t know why they’re being weird, it’s not like they can’t just talk to each other in a language most of the guys don’t understand if they’ve got a secret. Connor would ask Barz what’s going on, but the whole hair-fire thing combined with the way he’s glowering at the Huskies teammates makes him think now’s not a good time.

If he can’t spend Christmas with his family, this is a pretty good way to spend it, minus the Barz hair incident of course. Strome makes everyone buy a bunch of stuff from the vending machine and wrap everything in whatever paper they can find, and it’s kind of like a really cheap spontaneous secret santa thing. None of this shit is on their diet plans, but it’s fucking Christmas, who cares.

 

No one’s talking about how Speers never seems like he can look any of the Dub boys in the eyes or why he always seems like he’s 10 seconds away from screaming when he talks to them. Connor doesn’t think he’s imagining Speers running out of the room – subtle, dude – when Barz comes in, maybe he just really needs to go to the bathroom? Barz used to make Connor want to puke too, before the WJC experience forced them to bond.

Connor’s about to ask Barz to ask Raddysh what’s going on when Cirelli sits down between Connor and Hartsy and just… starts talking.

“Look. I see the way you’re all looking at Speersy, so here’s the deal: it’s kind of hard to explain, but he can like, _see_ things no one else can. You know how sometimes if you look at Phil and Jeremy out of the corner of your eye it looks like they’re wearing armor, but when you _look_ at them it’s gone? Well Speersy sees that _all the time_ , and not just with Phil and Jeremy.

“You’re all shifters, right? Everyone thinks your animals only come out once you’ve shifted, but they’re kind of… wrong? Connor, your moose is just as much a part of you as _you_ are, it doesn’t just go away when you’re human, it’s not some fucking Pokémon shit that you shove into a ball and don’t have to think about.”

Shit. No one outside of the Dub has ever put so much thought into what it’s like to be a shifter, and, damn Connor thinks Cirelli deserves a standing ovation and maybe a hug. He just looks so sad all the time, but Connor’s not going to interrupt him.

“Speersy can _see_ your animals when he looks at you, but it’s not that simple, because this whole fucking thing is complicated. Carter, when he looks at you he sees this weird overlay of _you_ and the fox, but it’s nowhere near as freaky as Kale and his deer or Noah and his polar bear. Connor, no offense, but apparently you just look fucking confused all the time.

“Everyone knows that Barz is different right? Like, he’s not a shifter but he’s sure as hell not human. Mitch won’t really tell us what happened last year, but we’ve all heard the stories of Barz going rabid and almost eating a bunch of people. Nico got kind of weird when we asked about it, and Phil and Jeremy’s eyes starting glowing so we just kind of dropped it. Barz getting bloodthirsty is all we really need to know, right?

“Anyways, Speersy sees his true form and it’s like...really fucking scary. He has...so many teeth, and Barz just...grins right at Speersy. He won’t even say what the rest of him looks like, and I’m not going to ask because I really don’t want to be more scared of him than I already am.”

 

Well, that explains why Speersy kept fucking up his passes during practice every single time he was out with Barz; Connor’s not going to call him out for running into the boards or falling onto the bench multiple times when Barz started chirping everyone.

Wait, Speersy’s around Strome all the time. How is he not bothered by the whole undead thing? Connor would make a joke about Strome not looking any different – he’s got some seriously dead-eyes and whatever he’s growing on his chin is _definitely_ not alive – but Connor’s a better person than that.

Being around Mikey kind of lessens his sight so looking at the Dub boys isn’t as traumatizing, which is cool when they’re off the ice but obviously Coach isn’t just going to put him on Speers’ line just so he doesn’t have a fucking meltdown. The entire team, minus Barz obviously, is in the middle of a huddle to figure this shit out, when Stephens comes up with a solution.

“T, can’t you put some kind of spell on Speersy’s visor to make him blind to everyone’s other forms? And like, Speersy this would be so much easier if you wore glasses, could you put a spell on something he can wear off the ice so can actually look at Barz without screaming?”

“I mean, I don’t usually do magic that big, but I could probably manage something,” Raddysh says.

“Hey, I’ve got a pair of goggles that my billet mom made me bring in case we went swimming – don’t ask, I know it’s December in Canada – so they’d cover Speersy’s eyes,” Fabbs says.

And that’s why Speersy is walking around the hotel wearing fucking swim goggles. Connor only sees Gauthier take one picture that doesn’t even wind up on Instagram, which shit, they’re really serious about the team-building thing if Julien Gauthier isn’t chirping on social media about it. Whatever Raddysh did to the goggles and Speersy’s visor worked: Speersy’s been nailing his passes during practices and he’s actually had full-on conversations with Barz without flinching.

 

Connor thinks it's really fucking funny how everyone always jokes about Josty shifting into a hummingbird because he's so fast on the ice – Connor would say he's fast off of it to, but come on his chirps are The Worst – but they don't watch National Geographic as much as Connor’s billet parents do. Apparently hummingbirds – and small insects/animals –  experience time more slowly than humans do, so they can process more information in a short period of time; it’s almost like everything is moving in slow motion instead of regular speed. That’s why it’s so fucking hard to smash a fly, it has more time to process where the newspaper is so it can dodge it better.

Connor doesn’t remember until Josty almost misses the bus to the second game of the tourney. Everyone’s getting ready to leave when Coach asks where Josty is, but no one’s seen him for the past hour. Connor just figured he was taking a nap, but when they go look for him, they find a hummingbird buzzing around one of the flowers Luc left by his door. Josty’s beak-deep in the Cardinal flower and couldn’t care less about the commotion around it. How the hell do you get a hummingbird’s attention?

“Shit. Someone grab Mikey, it’s an emergency,” Connor says. “Barz, go distract the coach. Don’t sing to him, just, i don’t fucking know. Talk to him.”

“Why am I always the distraction?” Barz whines before he heads back to the buses. “I know I’m the prettiest of all you fuckers, but that doesn’t mean I always want attention.”

Connor doesn’t even realize Beaner left to grab Mikey until they come crashing into the hallway. He’s never been happier to see a teammate in his life – Mikey, not Beaner, no offense bro – including the time his moose saw Fergie carrying a box of fresh-cut tree branches. What, he was hungry, don’t judge him.

Connor still has no idea how it actually works, but Mikey just sits next to the flower and Josty gets out of the flower and starts buzzing around Mikey’s out-stretched hand. Connor doesn’t mean to blink, but when he closes his eyes Josty’s the hummingbird and when he opens them Josty’s a very frazzled human.

“Why are you guys all dressed like you’re going to the game? We have like, at least an hour,” Josty asks, his eyes flicking between Connor, Beaner, and Mikey faster than his wings flutter.

“Dude. It’s almost 3. Coach is fucking pissed you have no idea,” Beaner says.

Beaner gets halfway through his mini-tirade before Josty’s cutting him off with apologies and a rundown of what usually happens when he shifts. His BCHL teammates always had a system: when Josty goes hummingbird, someone always stays with him to make sure he doesn’t lose track of time; Connor’s sure it’s also to make sure Josty doesn’t fly out a window and get lost, but he’s definitely not going to say that. His NCAA teammates are learning it too, but the WJC boys are just getting to know each other so obviously “hey, can someone keep an eye on me so I don’t spend too much time drinking out of a flower” hasn’t really come up yet.

Connor knows he shouldn’t question this shit because none of it ever makes any sense, but if time moves slowly, wouldn’t Josty early to everything? If it feels like Josty’s been buzzing around for 30 minutes to its bird-brain, but it’s actually been 17 minutes, wouldn’t Josty shift back in real time?

“It’s kind of like, when I get super focused on something as the hummingbird, time just stops? Like, I could lose myself flying around the room looking at every little thing and not realize it. Since time doesn’t _really_ stop, if I don’t have someone to look out for me, I’d just keep flying around until I felt ready to shift back,” Josty explains, or well, he tries to explain. Connor’s brain hurts, and they really don’t have time for the biology (or is it physics?) lesson.

“Ok this is fascinating and I’m really sorry I missed this heart-to-heart, but if we aren’t at the bus in two minutes Coach is going to leave us here,” Barz pants, bent over trying to catch his breath. Come on dude, you’re a fucking hockey player, running up and down the hall (and a few flights of stairs, Connor’s not an asshole) shouldn’t make you that tired.

Ok, maybe running down the hall and down a few flights of stairs in under two minutes is harder than Connor thought; he’s out of breath by the time he, Mikey, Barz, and Josty get in their seats on the bus. Note to self: more cardio in the gym is probably a good idea.

 

Connor’s kind of glad he’s not in net for the first game of the tourney, because that’s _a lot_ of pressure. It’s not like he thought being Canada’s last line of defense would be easy, but it would be _really_ awkward if he went Moose in the middle of the national anthem. Being able to watch how Hartsy handles the pressure – and the pucks being lobbed at his chest by Russian teenagers – makes something in Connor’s heart settle and he actually feels like he can breathe for the first time since he put on his new jersey. Five goals help a lot too, but Connor’s going to give Hartsy most of the credit.

 

Connor’s not sure whose idea it was, but instead of going out to a bar to celebrate the win, they end up down by the water. Duber wants to swim, something about a bathtub not being enough room for his otter to properly swim – it’s not like it’s trying to do laps in the tub, but whatever, Connor just salty about being outside in the freezing cold – and honestly, everyone wants to see if Chabot and Joseph – no, Chabby and Jozy, Connor needs to get more familiar with his teammates and stop calling them by their last names – will do their weird Q boy shit.

There’s a rumor going around the CHL about Chabby turning into a seal. No one outside of the Q really knows how it works but Connor’s excited to find out. He’s not sure what he’s actually expecting, but one minute Chabby is standing at the edge of the water with Phil and Jer, and the next minute – fuck, did Barz need to make that choking sound that made Connor turn his head – a seal is flopping into the water. Of fucking course that would happen. Not that it’s really any different when the Dub boys shift, one minute they’re human and the next they’re animals, but Connor still thinks it’s unfair that he didn’t get to see Chabby’s Q magic-thing at work.

Now that he doesn’t have to creepily stare at Chabby, Connor notices that Beaner’s tugging on his pant leg – Beaner, you’re too fucking small to pull a person into the water, but good on you for trying – and Claguer trying to ignore Hartsy’s attempts to make him fall into the water by racing between his legs in what Connor assumes is an attempt to trip him.

He’s the last Dub boy to change, and he picks the perfect time because Jozy keeps throwing water at Fabs and Fabs is most definitely Not Okay with it. Connor tries to make a joke about Fabs needing a shower anyway, but as usual, the bellow he lets out doesn’t have the right tone to it so he just sounds worried. Apparently Jozy doesn’t realize that Fabs is now perched on his antlers, because Connor’s head is fucking soaked, thanks bro. What the fuck Barz, stop laughing, it’s really not that funny.

Oh wait, did Connor not mention that there’s also a rumor about Jozy being able to control water? Well, surprise motherfuckers, Jozy can control water. Connor’s only seen it a couple times when the boys fuck around in the hotel pool, and even then he’s never really sure what it is he was seeing. Water doesn’t normally fly out of the pool directly at a person, or splash out of the pool to form a puddle the shape of a dick, but Connor thinks that maybe it could in very specific, very strange circumstances. His life is so much easier now that he knows better and just accepts that water tends to move _differently_ around Jozy.

Chabby makes a god-awful barking noise at Jozy, Connor’s guessing that he’s trying to tell Jozy to help get him in the water because let’s face it: seals are not graceful creatures out of water. All those nature documentaries his billets watched show seals just kind of… flopping around on land like they’re drunk and trying to do the worm. No one needs to see Chabby doing the worm, and Jozy clearly agrees because he does a few hand motions while muttering something in “French,” and a trail of water comes up to Chabby and carries him into the lake.

Connor would rather not actually go into the water, he’s content to just sit with Claguer at the edge of the water while everyone else splashes around. Beaner and Hartsy keep trying to swim out to where Chabby and Duber are racing each other down the beach, but Jozy keeps making the water pull them back before they go out too far.

Raddy starts a fire out of a few logs Mitch and Tony found lying around – another good thing about having a witch on the team – so the mostly-human boys are sitting around talking and laughing whenever Josty flies over to pick at Jer’s hair.

Connor’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there when Barz comes over and sits next to him. Claguer’s wandered off to munch on one of the bushes closer to the rocks and Fabs keeps trying to catch Duber whenever it comes up for air between races, so it’s just Connor and Barz.

“Hey Ingy. I don’t know if you can actually understand what I’m saying, because you know, you’re a fucking moose, but maybe that’ll make this easier? Just let me talk and don’t start yelling or whatever it is moose do. Chabby says I’ve been an asshole to you, and–”

Barz was right, Connor hears what he’s saying, but he’s talking really fucking fast and his brain really can’t process everything quickly enough for him to understand it. Connor thinks he knows what he’s trying to say, actually, maybe he’s more confused than he thinks; in what alternate reality does Mathew Barzal apologize to anyone? Connor swears that Barz even looks sad, and while normal Connor might laugh or be an asshole, right now Connor would give anything for Barz to smile or just, not be upset.

Connor’s about to nudge Barz with his muzzle – sort of the moose version of “I love you,” but for bros – when Beaner and Hartsy come darting out of the water straight at them. Oh shit. Of course, that’s Connor’s cue to shift back, just as Beaner shakes every drop of water off its coat, and _all over_ Connor. He thinks Barz got lucky until he opens his eyes and sees Barz face first in the sand with Hartsy on top of him getting him _soaking_ wet. Oh shit, now Hartsy’s human again, sitting on Barz.

Phil and Jer come running over as soon as they stop laughing – why do they look scared? No one actually got hurt – stumbling over their words so what they’re saying sounds suspiciously like “no no no Barz don’t hurt him he didn’t mean anything you’re fine carter needs to stay alive for this tourney” which, what? Sure, Connor knows about the whole bloodthirst thing that everyone says Barz has going on, but come on, he’d never actually _hurt_ one of the boys. But then again, apparently Mat’s true form involves tons of teeth.

All of a sudden, Connor feels _really tired_ and just… falls asleep. He swears he hears Phil saying something about needing to get everyone back to the hotel Right Now – which, Connor’s pretty sure Chabby’s still a seal and Duber isn’t done swimming, how are they going to get them under control – and the last thing he remembers is Barz singing – what the fuck is that about? Since when does Barz make any noise that isn’t obnoxious – before Phil is shaking him awake in the lobby of the hotel. Normally, Connor would have _so many_ questions, but he’s more concerned with following Hartsy up to their room so he can sleep.

 

Connor’s pretty sure the only thing anyone’s going to remember about him against Slovakia is the trip he took down the ice – get it, trip? – towards the end of the second period. Listen, it’s not like Connor’s legs were getting a lot of action with the handful of shots Slovakia had managed to get passed Canada’s defense, so when Coach called him to the bench after the delayed penalty he got a little over-excited – it was the most action he’d gotten the entire night – and before his legs got the memo that he was leaving the net, Connor lost an edge and just...fell...all the way down the ice. Chabby says he screamed the entire way, but Connor’s got enough self-respect to admit that he might have expressed his surprise at suddenly using his chest protector as a sled, but he didn’t _scream_.

When the TSN reporters ask about the trip, Connor corrects them: "First of all I was flying. Someone tweet Dylan Larkin cause I'm coming for his speed record.”

He’s got a sense of humor and he knows how to use it. The boys chirp him in the locker room about it until Beaner shifts and gets trapped in its chest protector. Mitch starts freaking out and scratching at his own chest protector until Raddy comes over and helps him take it off, but Connor’s not sure if Raddy is the hero or Claguer is. Connor would like to believe his teammate is emotionally stable enough to not panic about gear he wears everyday, but Claguer untangled Beaner from the pile of clothes and padding at the same time Raddy helped Mitch with his, so he can’t be certain.

As soon as Claguer sets him down, Beaner makes sure to visit every single stall so the boys to show them that it survived this harrowing experience. Connor makes sure to pick Beaner up and give it extra scritches behind its ears, it clearly wants belly rubs, but that’s a little weird, right? Rubbing your teammate’s stomach is _not_ bros. Connor’s convinced half his teammates are doing a lot more than just touching bellies – he’s trying not to think about it too hard, but Luc and Jules spend way too much time “going over video” in Luc’s room – and Beaner is _very_ cute but he’s just going to stick to petting it above the shoulders, thanks.

 

The boys absolutely _slaughter_ Latvia. Connor could kiss Raddy – a five point night _holy shit_ \- if he wasn’t sure Tony and Mitch were already taking care of that. Most of the boys are hanging out in one of the conference rooms Hockey Canada has taken over, when they hear a bloodcurdling scream coming from the bathroom.

Speersy is the first one into the bathroom, Connor and Jules right on his heels. Connor barely has time to get out of the way before Speersy pukes all over the floor, not that Connor can really blame him, he’s not sure he’s ever seen anything so disturbing. Luc had started sprouting leaves as soon as the boys settled it -Connor’s has no idea how _that_ works but he figures Luc’s being so relaxed makes it easier for them to come out – no one thinks anything of it when Luc says he needs to piss. The problem is that Claguer is already in the bathroom, and apparently his deer was really fucking hungry, because it’s eating Luc’s leaves. That’s right, Claguer is _eating_ the leaves coming out of their teammate’s skin.

Luc won’t stop screaming, staring straight at Connor but not _seeing_ him, but Connor has no idea how to get Claguer off him. The deer easily has 400 pounds on Connor, and obviously isn’t going to be distracted by any noises anyone could make if the sound of its teammate screaming isn’t doing anything to stop him.

Connor’s already pushed Speersy out of the bathroom, he can’t imagine what this looks like to someone who sees Claguer as a deer and a person, but since Speersy is still right outside the door, he yells at him to grab one of the Q boys. He’s hoping they’ll know what to do, and Phil is there in the blink of an eye – literally. Connor closes his eyes and when he opens them Phil is there, and _wow_ Connor’s glad he’s not the one Phil’s mad at. If looks could kill, Claguer’s head would be mounted to a wall and his skin would be smoking on a fire somewhere.

Phil mutters something in “French” that sounds way to soft for the look on his face, before he finishes the phrase the bathroom starts turning into a fucking forest. Connor’s never seen so many vines, bushes, and trees crammed into such a small space, his Aunt Barb would be proud. He’s sure Claguer hasn’t seen anything like this either: the deer keeps looking around the room trying to figure out what he should eat first, but the only thing it doesn’t care about now (besides Phil and Connor, obviously) is Luc. Phil must have grabbed Luc, because when Connor takes his eyes of Claguer they’re gone. Dammit Connor, stop blinking if you don’t want to miss everything.

Phil and Jer don’t say anything about the incident, but they fucking smirk at each other every time Claguer loses an edge during the next three practices like they know the punch line to a really funny joke. How often does Claguer lose an edge? _Every fucking time_ he steps onto the ice. He also trips several times on the way to and from the locker room, but Connor’s willing to believe that’s just Claguer being clumsy.

 

Everything changes when the boys suit up against the Americans. They knew their winning streak wasn’t going to last, but Connor couldn’t give a shit less about hockey right now. Phil’s out, because that asshole Kunin decided trying to kill the competition was the easiest way to beat them. Connor’s not saying Kunin meant to concuss Phil, but he is saying that you have to try pretty damn hard to make contact with head that’s 6.5 feet off the ground.

Connor doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the sound of Phil’s head slamming into the boards – or the broken grimace on his face as he tried to get to his feet – out of his head. Connor’s honestly surprised that Jer didn’t get ejected for lighting every white jersey on fire, or that Fabs didn’t shift so he could peck Kunin’s eyes out.

It stings worse that the boys don’t manage to make the Americans pay on the scoreboard, Chabby scores to avenge his partner during Kunin’s Major, but Connor can’t keep three pucks out of the net and they lose 3-1. Fuck the Americans.

Phil and Jer are nowhere to be seen by the time Connor’s done in the locker room, Chabby tells everyone that Phil’s sleeping but the redness in his eyes makes Connor think he’s not being totally honest. Beaner’s husky tries to sneak into the room before Chabby closes the door, and Connor knows Beaner just wants to help, but now’s really not the time for a puppy running loose.

Connor takes Beaner back to his room, and when he opens the door he sees everyone’s animals cuddled on Hartsy’s bed. Actually, Juuls probably pushed the beds together, because there’s no way he and Claguer can fit on the same bed, wait, how haven’t they broken the beds? Connor’s not sure how much the polar bear and deer weigh, but it’s got to be more than the suggested weight limit on the tag. Connor’s not going to ask too many questions, all he’s saying is that it would be fucking awkward to call the front desk to let them know that two beds are broken “because Canada’s hockey team needed to cuddle.”

Connor’s not willing to risk even more weight on the beds after he shifts, so he curls up as much as he can – he’s a moose, they’re not known for being flexible – on the floor after making sure Beaner’s comfortable on the bed. Hartsy untangles himself from the pile to nuzzle Connor’s face before it curls up between his hooves, Connor gives a little huff to let it know it’s ok to be sad right now. Any other time, Connor would be shocked that Hartsy’s so mellow, but he appreciates its attempt to cheer him up a little.

 

No one sees Jer until he shows up in the locker room before their game against the Czechs, and even then Connor thinks he’s not _really there_. He keeps muttering to himself in “French” – wait, no, Connor can actually understand what he’s saying, that’s normal French, shit – and brushing off everyone’s attempts to talk, or more like distract, him. He’s not even smirking at whatever bullshit Barz is spouting at Stromer, he’s just staring at a stain on the carpet.

The Q boys fucking _show up_ , Jules scores twice and Chabby’s got a goal and an assist, and Nico and Jozy get helpers. Connor thinks they’re trying to make Jer feel better, like they can make it through the rest of the tourney without Phil, but something about it just feels hollow.

Nico makes sure everyone leaves Jer alone off the ice, and as soon as the final buzzer sounds, Jer’s just...gone. Again.

 

Connor’s felt weird all day, like his Moose wanted to burst out of his skin, which hasn't happened since he learned how to control the shift years ago. He'd be more worried about it if he wasn't so busy worrying about tonight, which, holy shit he's going to be in net for a game that can go two ways: they lose, and that's the end of the tourney, or they win and go on to play for gold.

Connor feels fine during warm ups, stopping almost every shot his teammates throw at him and laughing at Barz and Chabby shoving each other into the boards, so he decides to brush off that weird churning in his gut. Hartsy gives him a few weird looks on their way to the locker room, but Connor gives him a look that screams “I’m ok, really, just leave me alone” – which, now that he thinks about it, probably just looked like Connor’s face was spasming. Oh well. Hartsy leaves him alone, that’s really all that matters.

As soon as he gets on the ice before puck drop Connor knows he should have fucking listened to his gut. The moose won’t stop poking around his brain, all of Connor’s focus is on trying to make sure he doesn’t shift in the middle of the game, when it should be focused on stopping pucks and helping fetch pucks from behind the net. The Swedes get 2 pucks past him on 3 shots, as soon as the second goal horn goes off Connor knows Coach wants him out of the game.

Connor’s glad they gave him a few minutes before he needed to be on the bench, no one watching the game needs to see a moose trying to squeeze itself onto the bench. Mikey’s able to sneak off the bench – the only upside to being the 13th forward – and chill with him in the locker room until he calms down enough to go back out there, but Connor’s still so fucking mad. Who allows 2 goals on 3 fucking shots?

“Dude. You need to calm the fuck down. You’re fucking with Mitch,” Stromer yells. Shit, Connor forgot about the whole “Mitch can feel emotions” thing, but now that he’s paying attention, he can see that Mitch is definitely not on his game. When he’s on the ice, he’s fucking up passes or narrowly avoiding roughing penalties, and when he’s on the bench he’s fucking _vibrating_ – no seriously, Connor thinks he can feel the bench shaking – and that’s just. Not Mitch.

For a second, Connor gets even angrier – how _dare_ he let his feelings hurt his friend, it’s not enough he fucked everyone over because he couldn’t make a save, no, he has to keep fucking up – but he takes one more look at Mitch and just, lets it all go. In an instant, Mitch is his normal self, like he wasn’t ready to slash the next Swede who skated by.

Hartsy’s a fucking brick wall the rest of the game, stopping every shot that gets past their D. Connor swears he’s going to buy him so many fucking fish Hartsy won’t know what to do with them. He’d have to hide them from Duber and Juuls, and figure out where the nearest grocery store is, but he’s going to fucking get the damn fish. Tomorrow. Hopefully before the _gold medal game_ , but whatever, he’ll figure it out.

Holy shit. They’re going to play in the fucking gold medal game. Well, Connor’s probably going to be on the bench – there’s no way Hartsy’s not getting the start – but still. They’re facing down the Americans for the _gold_ fucking _medal_.

 

Connor watches 21 hearts break from his spot on the bench every time the Americans manage to tie the game. Chabby and Jer give them a two goal lead, but McAvoy and Bellows manage to tie it up before the end of the second period, and when the boys get the two goal lead back, the fucking Americans storm back and even it up _again_. Connor has a feeling no one’s going to score in overtime, and he’s never wished he was wrong more than he does right now.

The game shows to a fucking shootout, and Connor wishes he could be out on the ice with Hartsy, even if it’s just to remind him how much Connor loves him. Maybe if he turns into his moose and tries to skate around on the ice he’ll distract the Americans enough that they won’t be able to score. Sure, that might be cheating, and could actually get the team in a shit ton of trouble, but Connor’s not actually _doing_ anything. He can just blame it on stress or hormones or whatever bullshit he thinks up, and the IIHF couldn’t actually do anything to punish them, right?

Hartsy’s a brick wall in the shootout, until Terry manages to sneak his shot past him, which is something that the Canadians just… can’t do. Nico bobbles his shot on Parsons, and Connor can’t believe that it’s just… over. They lost. The lost to the _fucking Americans_ on home ice.

His own heart is breaking for Nico and Hartsy – fucking Hartsy, who gave up _one_ goal in the shootout that he can’t possibly blame himself for, not when the game should have never gone to a shootout in the first place – as he watches Nico skate aimlessly to the bench and Hartsy just… crumple to the ice.

Before he realizes he’s even hopped over the boards, Connor’s kneeling on the ice next to Hartsy, trying to say anything that will distract him from the way the Americans are celebrating on the other end of the ice.

“I love you so fucking much you were amazing holy shit i’m sorry i’m sure Juuls would shift and run all the white jerseys over–” Connor doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but Hartsy looks so fucking devastated that he has to say _something_.

Chabby’s the first to skate over to them, and holy shit if he’s not named Canada’s player of the tournament Connor’s going to Go Moose and trample someone. Connor doesn’t even have time to hug him before someone in a suit is yelling at them to head over to where the rest of the boys are huddled together; as soon as they notice Hartsy coming over they clear a space in the middle so they can shield him from the stupid fucking cameras that won’t leave them alone. Connor’s moose wants to smash the shit out of the cameras so his boys don’t have to worry about people hundreds of miles away watching them cry.

Connor doesn’t remember getting his _silver_ medal or being forced to shake hands with every single fucking American, and from the looks on everyone else’s faces, they don’t either. Fuck, what is Phil doing out here? He should be in his room – or wherever the hell he’s been since the hit – not in an obnoxiously bright arena with thousands of people screaming at once. Mitch looks ready to vomit, Connor’s not sure if that’s his own reaction, Phil’s reaction, or if it’s Mitch feeling everyone’s heartache in his own chest, but again, Connor wants let his moose destroy something.

He doesn’t. None of the Dub boys end up shifting when they get back to the hotel. Connor thinks that the Q boys will try to disappear, for at least a little while, but they don’t. The O boys might be hurting the worst: Tony didn’t have a vision that would’ve prepared them for losing the game, and Connor knows he’s blaming himself, Mitch feels everyone’s pain and Connor’s heart bleeds for him. They don’t run away, even though Connor thinks Raddy could probably use some sort of spell to do… something to help.

Everyone gathers in the conference room, tables cleared away, couches pushed against the wall, tvs turned off, and no one gets any sleep that night. Connor doesn’t think that anyone could sleep even if they wanted to. They don’t talk either, not that there’s anything to say that they haven’t already said in the locker room after the game: how much they love each other, how proud of themselves they should be, how they’ll never forget the past few weeks. Fuck, that sounds super cheesy and not-bros, but Connor knows he feels it down to his bones.

 

_(Tampa Bay Development Camp)_

 

Connor’s one of three Dub boys invited to the Lightning’s development camp: he hasn’t seen Howdy much since selection camp, so he’s fucking stoked to play with his lamb as soon as he can. God, Connor hopes it hasn’t lost the poof of soft grey curls on the top of its head and that it still makes that keening sound when you scratch it behind its ears. Connor’s still thinking about it when he gets up to his hotel room, and wait. Shit. There’s a baby lamb trying to ram its head into a door. Well, Operation Hide Dub Boys From Civilians is on, and dammit Connor really didn’t want to deal with it until after he’s had dinner.

“Hey, Howdy, whatcha doing buddy?” Connor asks, trying to be as quiet as possible, but he doesn’t know it’s more because he’s trying not to spook Howdy or not to get anyone’s attention.

Luckily Howdy seems to remember Connor – thank god because it’s not like Connor carries around grass or whatever the fuck sheep eat – well, that or the lamb is way too trusting, because it walks right up to Connor and starts butting its head against his legs and baaa-ing loudly at Connor.

“Shhh buddy, you’ve got to be quiet okay?” Once again, Howdy seems to understand him, because he lets out one last baaa and looks up at Connor with its too-wide eyes. “Yes, you’re very cute, now let’s just… go to my room, I guess? We can chill until you shift back. Just don’t eat anything.”

Connor sends a text to the other WJC boys attending Bolts camp, someone made a joke about the Lightning drafting most of Canada’s World Juniors team, and they aren’t wrong: Connor’s got Raddy, Tony, Mitch, Jozy, and he supposes Howdy half-counts even though he got cut.

 

 **Me** is anyone at the hotel yet?

 **Tony** just got in. why?

 **Me** there’s an emergency

 **Tony** did you break something with your antlers again. dammit dude we talked about this

 **Me** no i didn’t fucking break anything. it’s howdy.

 **Tony** dude you’re not a cowboy shut up.

 **Me** no asshole. Brett howden. is a lamb

 **Mitch** no shit?

 **Tony** dude i just want to take a fucking nap can it wait?

 **Me** yeah sure i’ll just keep a fucking farm animal in my room until you’ve had your beauty sleep

 **Tony** ugh fine. room #

 **Me** 3101 bring food if you can

 **Tony** wtf i don’t have lamb food dumbass

 **Me** no the food’s for me I haven’t eaten since this morning :D

 **Mitch** wait i’ll be there in like 15. I want to see the floof

 **Tony** omw chubby we’ll wait for you in ingy’s room

 **Me** just. hurry i think he’s going to start trying to eat the curtains

 

 **Raddy** just got off plane? did i miss something?

 

When Tony and Mitch get to Connor’s room, they immediately start cooing at Howdy, which, Connor normally wouldn’t mind because it’s a _very_ cute baby and who wouldn’t want to pet it, but now is _not_ the time. Great. Now Tony’s on the floor and Howdy’s trying to climb him like a tree while Mitch just stands there laughing like an idiot. And someone’s knocking on the door. If Connor was a moose right now he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit, but clearly he’s the only one in the room capable of using his brain.

“Quick, hide him in the bathroom,” Connor whispers. “If he starts screaming just, I dunno. Be louder than he is.”

“Or we could just turn on the shower,” Mitch says, which, good point. Fuck, the knocking just needs to stop already. “Ingy, act normal. Or just. Not freaky.”

“Fuck you I’m not freaky,” Connor says, but they’ve already gone into the bathroom and he really does need to answer the door. He looks out the peephole, and _holy shit_ why is Steve fucking Yzerman knocking on his door? Doesn’t he have important GM stuff to do? Like checking in on prospects – oh. That’s why he’s here. Shit.

"Hi, Mr. Yzerman, what are you doing here? It’s nice to see you but now’s not a good time." Connor says, except it comes out as fucking word vomit all over his GM, like “HiMrYzermanwhatareyoudoinghereit’snicetoseeyoubutnow’snotagoodtime”

Great, now he’s getting sent down before camp even actually starts, way to go bro.

“Umm. Hello Connor, I just wanted to make sure you’re settling in well,” Steve _fucking_ Yzerman – Connor really needs to drop the _fucking_ but he’s a little high-strung right now so he’ll fix it later – says, and oh no he already looks like he wants to get the hell out of here.

“Yes i am thanks for stopping by I’m sorry I swear I’m not this weird but now’s really not a good time,” is what Connor tries to say, but more word vomit, so his GM hears “Yesiamthanksforstoppingbyi’msorryisweari’mnotthisweirdbutnow’sreallynotagoodtime.”

It’s not Connor’s fault though, he can hear Mitch and Tony laughing, and holy shit they’re going to blow their cover. Or Steve Yzerman thinks they’re going to have some weird prospects orgy, which is just… great.

“Okay… Well I’m sure I’ll see you around. Good luck during camp.” Holy shit Connor’s definitely getting cut. Stupid stupid stupid.

And now Connor’s a moose. Fucking _fantastic_. At least now Connor can bust the bathroom door open since his dumbass friends locked it. Connor would normally be more cautious about opening a door with Mitch and Tony on the other side doing god knows what, but Howdy’s trapped in there with him. Connor’s just being a good friend by rescuing him, and if he’s got to use his antlers to break down the door, he’s going to do it.

Or, he would have done it, if Howdy didn’t open the door as Connor was psyching himself up.

“Are you fucking kidding,” Tony mutters when he sees Connor. “I’m leaving, you guys can figure this crisis out yourselves.”

“Aww Ingy I’ll stay with you,” Mitch coos, pushing Tony out the front door muttering something that sounds like “Tony don’t be a fucking asshole I’ll make it up to you later,” which Connor just, Does Not want to know anything about.

They leave Howdy to figure out how to dry his clothes – did Connor mention it looks like the lamb jumped into the shower? Well, that’s another thing that happened – with the hair dryer, while Connor tries to think about the best place in the room for cuddling. He must make some sort of whiny bellow, because Mitch pushes the coffee table against the wall, sits down on the floor in front of the couch, and pets his knee like he wants Connor to sit with him.

His moose decides that’s a great idea, but the antler thing makes cuddling a lot harder: if he puts his head on Mitch’s leg, he might stab him, but if he sits up he might smack Mitch in the face with his antlers. It takes a while, but they end up with Connor curling up as much as he can and Mitch leaning back against him – it’s cuter than it sounds, Connor promises – until Connor shifts back and ends up with a lapful of his teammate.

“Ok well I better go. Raddy just got in and I should probably rescue him from Tony’s clutches,” Mitch says. “Text one of us later and we can grab something to eat.”

Connor just grumbles from his spot on the floor and makes what he thinks it a vague wave gesture at the door Mitch already walked out of. The floor seems like a great place to take a nap, so he does just that.

 

Development camp is a blur of training and lectures and community outreach and _hockey_ , Connor barely has time to slow down and think about how important this week is for his future. He’s made peace with the fact that he’s not going back to the Blazers in the fall, which kind of sucks but he can’t stay in the juniors bubble forever.

Connor’s team ends up winning the 3-on-3 tournament at the end of the week. When the reporter asks how he felt he tells her that he was more focused on “trying not to throw up out there,” which he figures sounds a lot better than “I was just trying not to turn into a moose.”

 

_(Tampa Bay Training Camp/Preseason)_

 

Connor doesn't really know what to expect at training camp this year, but it definitely isn't Tyler Johnson cornering him after practice. He's heard about that one time Johnny went wolf after the Bolts were eliminated from the playoffs – there are still scratches in the door from Johnny trying to claw his way into the Penguins’ locker room – so Connor’s guessing he’s in charge of talking to the new Dub boys. Wolves can smell fear right? As long as there’s no rookie hazing – Connor can only imagine how you'd haze animals, maybe shave them? – Connor’s not going to show fear.

“Relax dude, I’m not going to bite,” Johnny says, trying to talk over the rest of the boys shouting some variation of “unless you ask” or “yes you fucking do.” That’s more than Connor needs to know, thanks. “You, Howdy, and Cal are coming to my place tonight so we can go over ground rules. Being a shifter in the NHL is a lot different than being a shifter in the Dub, so there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“Yes sir,” Connor is _trying_ to not to show fear, and oh hey, there’s Mitch. Dammit, _there’s Mitch_ , which means he’s definitely failing at trying to remain calm. He knows that’s not the end of the conversation, but bless Mitch for putting himself in between Connor and Johnny and at least putting it on hold.

Sure enough, Johnny’s waiting for them by his car like he knows Pointer drove the Dub boys to the rink and that his car is mysteriously missing from the parking lot. Connor’s the oldest, so he feels like it’s only right for him to call “not-shotgun” so he can hide in the back, which now that he thinks about it is probably not a good idea, a wolf sitting next to a lamb is probably not the best idea. Then again, Cal needs all the legroom he can get, so he should get the honor of sitting up front.

“Oh my fucking god stop looking at me like I’m going to eat you,’ Johnny says before he hands each of them a piece of what looks like Christmas wrapping paper with the words ‘Rules of Shift Club’ scrawled on the back:

 **Rules of Shift Club**  

  * ****If you need to shift, tell a buddy.****


  * **DO NOT shift on the ice. Kuch will not clean up after you.**


  * **You break it you buy it. Doesn’t matter what it is.**


  * **Mandatory cuddle sessions every Thursday.**


  * **Obviously** **do not talk about Shift Club ;)**



 

Wait. Today’s Thursday.

“That’s right fuckers, we’re going to my place to cuddle. The other guys are skipping this one since it’s _technically_ still the summer and cuddle sessions don’t start until the season starts,” Johnny says.

If Connor wasn’t a moose he’d be joining Howdy behind the couch he’s hiding behind, Johnny’s wolf is _huge_ . Connor’s serious, he’s pretty sure if the wolf stood on it’s hind legs it would be taller than Phil Myers, not that he’s _afraid_ or anything, it’s just...more than he was expecting from a 5’8” hockey player. Besides, Johnny’s more focused on trying to keep Cal from smacking its head on the ceiling fan, maybe having a giraffe in the house was a bad idea. Connor’s seen Duber’s snaps of Cal trying to dodge balloons and streamers, so he knows Cal’s ok to shift inside, but now he’s caught in a spiderweb and starting to panic.

In hindsight, the bellow was probably a bad idea, because now Cal’s _really_ panicking and Howdy uses the distraction to hide in the bathroom. Johnny must decide that letting Cal work its issues out is the safest option, he just moseys on over to the couch and curls up into a ball to take a nap. Actually, a nap sounds great right now, Connor thinks he’ll join Johnny. On the floor, obviously, Connor’s not going to pay for a new couch if he crushes it.

Howdy must have decided that a sleeping wolf is a safe wolf, because when Connor wakes up he’s curled up next to Johnny on the couch. Cal’s still trying to get the spiderwebs out of his hair, it looks like he’s having better luck now that he’s got hands instead of hooves, and Connor would help, he swears, but it’s fucking funny and the floor is surprisingly comfy.

Johnny drives them back to the hotel a few hours later with the promise – Connor thinks it’s supposed to be a threat, but come on that was fun – of more cuddle sessions later, as long as they don’t slack off the rest of camp.

 

Tony’s been acting a little funny the whole day, Connor can’t put his finger on it, but it seems like he’s doing everything he can to avoid being alone with Connor. Connor’s not joking, when it looked like they were going to be the last ones in the locker room, Tony ran out wearing one sock and his sweats were on backwards. He and the rest of the WJC boys usually have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, but Connor swears Tony purposely shoved Raddy out of his chair – they have A System that’s worked for them since they got to Tampa: Raddy sits across from Mitch, who sits next to Tony...Connor _knows_ where Tony is supposed to sit – so he wouldn’t have to sit across from Connor. Mitch keeps elbowing Tony during lunch while Raddy stares at him while not-so-subtly twitching his head towards Connor, Connor swears he’s going to go moose if they don’t knock it off, but no one actually talks to him until one of the Bolts’ coaches says that they need to talk to Connor. In private. Shit.

Connor’s already kind of nervous, he knows he’s not going to be playing for the Bolts yet so he’s going to get sent down soon, but Tony telling him to hold on makes his stomach drop. Connor knows Tony gets visions of the future, lately it’s been stupid shit like “Mitch just use a fork” when they’re at a local sushi restaurant or “Jozy don’t eat _that_ cookie” after Mitch licked one of the cookies so Raddy couldn’t eat it, so Tony wanting to talk to him before a meeting is...not good.

“Ummm Connor, I–” Tony starts. Connor doesn’t blame him for not wanting to have this conversation – fuck, _Connor_ doesn’t want it – so he decides to be a good friend and cut to the chase.

“I’m getting sent down,” he says. “You saw it, didn’t you?”

“Fuck Ingy, I’m sorry. Mitch and T tried to get me to say something earlier, but how do you say ‘sorry man, pack your shit you’re going to New York?’” Tony says. “And don’t fucking say ‘well you just did’ asshole.”

That’s fair, Connor has to shut his mouth because that’s exactly what he was going to say. Tony looks so fucking sad that Connor has to hug him, but he hold himself to just a one-armed bro hug before telling Tony that it’s not his fault; Tony can’t control his visions and he has every right to keep them to himself if he wants to, and it’s not like Tony can do anything to keep Connor in Tampa with the boys.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I lasted this long. I’m a fucking goalie, bro. I’ve got a few years before I’ll be ready for the show,” Connor says.

“Still sucks though,” Tony mumbles, which, yeah, knowing it’s going to happen doesn’t take all the suckage away.

Connor honestly doesn’t remember the meeting, or going back to the hotel to pack before he leaves for the airport the next morning – the Crunch’s camp starts soon and he has to be ready for it – but he does remember shifting and falling asleep with Mitch, Tony, Raddy, and Jozy curled up around him, petting his muzzle and joking about the time at World Juniors when Jules thought it would be funny to string tinsel over his antlers.

Two days later, when Mitch sends him a picture of the boys waiting for a taxi, Connor knows that even if Tony didn’t have a vision about it, they’ve been cut from Tampa’s roster too.

 

 **Mitch** *photo of Tony sitting on the curb next to a bunch of suitcases, Raddy laughing at whatever Jozy’s saying*

 **Raddy** so much for going to the beach later

 **Me** sucks

 **Me** see you in a few hours

 

Connor might not have any of his Dub boys in Syracuse, but he might have finally found his herd.

**Author's Note:**

> -if you haven't already, go read http://archiveofourown.org/works/12811797/chapters/29246052 it's amazing and will make a lot of this fic make more sense.  
> -early on lotts said they were getting barz/ingy vibes and that is just. the best. i died  
> -@gauthboy on tumblr


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